A crimson bird perches on a low branch. It’s feathers shimmer like flames dancing in a fireplace.
Stretching her wings, wider than a man is tall, the bird blazes with fire and the tree, on which she perches, bursts into golden flames.
Despite the heat of the gilded fire, you offer your hand to the magnificent bird.
Furling her wings and flames, she steps onto your wrist.
Her weight is nothing, but her strength is burning and like her claws gripping your arm, her fire rips into the shackles around your heart.
Then, just like the weight, she is gone.